


Embers of Our Final Years

by VulgarMercury



Series: StarPrince Kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Implied Future Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV First Person, Snirius Discord's StarPrince Kinktober 2020, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulgarMercury/pseuds/VulgarMercury
Summary: Day 15 of the StarPrince Kinktober - Touch StarvedA somber portrayal of Sirius Black's cognitions as he deals with remnants of his past. In Severus he's found a companion, someone haunted as he is. Death a looming figure, inspiring them to reach out to one another in a effort to feel alive.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Severus Snape
Series: StarPrince Kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956820
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: StarPrince Kinktober 2020





	Embers of Our Final Years

**Author's Note:**

> This one is late but I hope yall enjoy! Less on the kink side, and more on the existential crisis side.
> 
> Thank you Threadbear for Beta-ing this fic for me! You were a great help.

You go so long without something you tend to forget how important it really is. I guess that’s what happened at some point. It wasn’t till I hugged Moony that I realized just how much my body ached for the comfort of a friend's embrace. When I held Harry for the first time since he was a baby...Well, it was like having James again. The pain I had long buried deep inside threatened to overwhelm me. But there was pride too that swelled within me. To see how his boy had grown up to be so incredibly brave and compassionate. 

Somewhere along the way, I had lost hope that I would ever get to be close to another person again. Hell, even the dementor’s kiss couldn’t compare to the desperation of wanting another’s presence. Someone to talk to, to sit next  to…someone to touch. 

It’s madness what the body will eventually adapt to. Of course, there was a hefty price I paid. It was evident, in the way the others would talk to me or the glint of fear I’d noticed lingering behind their eyes. Not certain if I was all there. I couldn’t blame them for it, I wasn’t certain myself. Azkaban had left me with very little. 

And here I was being asked to confine myself once more. This must have been a cruel joke. Grimmauld Place wasn't much different from Azkaban. 

In this cold, loveless place I had learned never to expect warmth or encouragement. That kind of behavior was unbecoming of such a noble family. Our duty was our only source of pride, of refuge, the duty to our name. A family tied together only in the pursuit of more wealth and more power. 

In truth, this place was far worse than Azkaban. My mother's shrill voice breaks me out of my thoughts once again. She was never one to let me forget how I had failed her. How unworthy I was of love. 

I hated her for it. I hated myself for believing her. The pain deeply embedded in my very soul as if she, herself, had taken a knife and had carved in the words, "Unworthy." 

Perhaps, I had never truly escaped, still serving my sentence. This place a reminder of how I had failed my family and now I’m trapped once more within its walls. The worst of it was the shadows lurking in the corners, the whispers of my ancestors, their rage, and their disgust. I hated them too. Every night I’d tell them to fuck off. But their incessant chatter never seemed to cease, not until the Order members came to visit. 

Then they were quiet, surely scandalized that I would allow  _ mud-bloods  _ and  _ blood traitors _ into the noble house of Black. Laughter would burst through me in those moments, it felt like freedom. I was free of their binds for the briefest of moments. That name had no power over me when I had the strength to stand up to them for the sake of others. 

I’m not quite certain when even  _ his _ company felt like a relief.  Snape . His presence seemed to make this place bearable.  I must be going mad . He’d come over only when he was sent on some errand  or another  from Dumbledore. I would coax him to stay for some company here and there. Though the bastard liked to put up a fight. Suppose I kind of enjoyed that though, it made it fun. Everyone else would tiptoe around me, it was absolutely maddening but not good old Snivellus. He treated me like I was still a man and not just some wounded animal. 

‘Sides he looked like he could use the company too. I doubted he had any real friends, anyway. 

“I’m only here to drop off a parchment, Black. So please don’t get any ideas,” he had said to me one evening. He was dusting off his cloak as he emerged from the fireplace. 

“Why, if it isn’t my favorite blood traitor,” I said with a smirk. Snape had grimaced harder. I always felt a spike of excitement whenever he’d get irritated with me. I couldn’t help myself. 

I put aside the Daily Prophet I’d been rereading for the third time that evening and got up from my chair. Snape had pulled from his inner pocket the aforementioned parchment, it was folded up neatly and sealed with wax. 

“On the Headmaster’s orders, you are to deliver this tomorrow night. Do you still remember the plan?” He extended the letter to me. I knew he intended to leave as soon as he handed it over. I didn’t want him to. 

I’m not entirely sure what possessed me at that moment to do the following or if I had even been conscious of it. But as I reached out to grab the letter, a couple of my fingers pressed into the back of his hand. He was warm, alive. I looked right into his eyes as if I hadn’t even noticed, holding steady, “I’m not a child, Snape. Of course, I remember.” 

It was only for a second but he glanced down to where our hands were touching. Something like panic had flashed there before he suppressed it and met my gaze once more with as much impassivity as always. But I knew he felt the electricity that had passed between us. I pulled the letter from his fingers and continued to smile innocently at him, “You sure you won’t join me for a cup of tea?”

“I mustn’t,” His tone was softer than before. He swallowed, his body was betraying him. Of that I was sure. He, like I, understood what it was like to be deprived of affection, of warmth. It had made him into this cold hard man, just like it had done to me. 

“Some whiskey then?” I didn’t bother to wait for his answer, I started for the bar and began to pull out some cups. 

Snape didn’t reply, he simply sat down and joined me for a while. 

\---

The next time he came around was for an Order meeting. We used to argue often when we first started these meetings but as of late, I just haven’t really wanted to. Sure, I’d tease him often or try to make a smart remark just to see him react but nothing truly with malice. Funny how you learn to adapt even to these things. I had never imagined myself an ally to Severus. Hell, perhaps  even friends. I’d long for his company some evenings, wondering if I should owl him to come visit. I’d always resolved not to. 

Perhaps to make up for it, I had decided to just sit next to him tonight at the table. I tried to listen intently but my focus just wasn’t very great these days. It often felt like I wasn’t really there at all, just watching from above my own body. Vaguely aware of what was happening. 

The mood in the room shifted suddenly, they were all clapping and praising Severus now. I felt myself return, I tried to recall what that was about but I suppose it hardly mattered. I placed an arm around his shoulder with the same level of casualness as any friend and beamed at him. He seemed startled by the display but he didn’t recoil. He simply looked at me with curiosity while I congratulated him on a job well done. 

Thankfully this had been the right move, the others joining in with back pats and a call for drinks. 

\---

I had finally done it. I asked Snape to join my company for the evening. Unsurprisingly, he resisted. Explaining that between his duties as the potions professors and spymaster, there was absolutely no time in the day for him to waste on me. Of course, he added insult to injury with the additive about my uselessness. I can’t say I appreciated this reminder. Though, I’m not sure why I had expected any better from Snape. Despite my victory in getting him to agree to this evening, the feeling from his comment festered. 

And as we sat together, I began to feel that itch to comment on it, “So Snape, did you inherit that nasty personality of yours, or did you just decide one day that’s who you wanted to be?” 

This seemed to amuse him more than anything. He smirked up at me, “Black, are you upset because I’m winning?” He moved his queen across the board. 

Maybe, but he didn’t need to know that part of it, “No, I’m genuinely curious as to what kind of environment you were brought up in.” And I really was. He needed some excuse for the sharpness of his tongue and those venomous words. 

I looked down at the pieces contemplating my next move when he responded, “I imagine it was a bit of both. My parents were strict and expected me to be an obedient child. Their methods in enforcing this were...questionable at best. And I suppose my encounters with you and Potter in my adolescence did very little to help.” 

And there he was, my old friend, Guilt, standing at my door in an instance. He barreled through, reminding me of the kind of monster I was. That I still am. 

I still recall the look of abject terror upon Snape’s face the night I lured him down to the Whomping Willow. I had reveled in it. Even Jamie had looked at me with concern. 

“No, I would think we weren’t much help in that department. We were wretched children, weren’t we?” 

“That we were,” Snape responded absentmindedly. 

He made his next move, and opened a path to my bitter victory. 

“Checkmate.” I smiled softly at him. 

He let out a little sigh and leaned back into the sofa. He looked tired. Stay the night I wanted to say.  _ I’m so alone and so are you _ , I thought. He wouldn't have accepted the offer. 

I shook my head and let out a pressured laugh, "Speaking of our youth, you wouldn't guess what I found in my closet the other night." 

Snape seemed to perk up at this with some intrigue, "Hmm?" 

"Wait here," I said as if I couldn't be too certain he'd be there when I returned. I hopped off from my chair and ran up the stairs probably with far more excitement than what was becoming of me. Though I didn't really care, I had been dying to show someone else the album I was now bringing down to him. 

I sat down next to Snape. He tensed a bit, sitting up stiff once more. He studied the album that sat on my lap. 

"Old memories, I thought you might appreciate seeing...her," my excitement dimming down into apprehension. This was bound to bring up bad memories, not just the good. It didn't matter, I didn't want to live in shame. I didn't want him to either. 

I opened it up and guided him through the pages. The years he had missed out on, I knew he would have wanted to be a part of. I'd tell him the stories of Lily and of Harry's birth. I had hoped that he wouldn't be hurt by it but that he'd appreciate that Lily and my James had really found happiness. Though the two of us were left in our torment of anger and shame. We could at least know that our best friends had been saved from such hellfire. 

I searched his face for some confirmation that he felt as I did. He had the smallest hint of a smile. The fondness he had for Lily was still there. Just as I still loved James. She had been to him what he had been to me. 

I turned the page. An image of Lily holding Harry at the hospital. She looked tired and disheveled but she was glowing. The image captured a private smile between her and her newborn. She looked up to us and smiled brightly, tears swelling and turning down her face from joy. 

"I wish I had been there," Snape whispered. The words gripped my heart. 

I placed my hand on his knee and squeezed it in hopes that it would comfort him, "We can't change the past but...we're here now. We still have Harry to look after." 

He looked at me, sadness and confusion evident in his features. 

"Thank you for watching him while I've been away," I added. Although his methods had frustrated me endlessly. Dumbledore had told me of the ways Severus had gotten the boy out of trouble. How he'd plead with him to keep Harry out of this Dark Lord business. It was difficult for me to see Snape as I had before. 

He cupped my hand with his own and squeezed it. Thank you he whispered. 

He gently removed my hand from where it laid and stood, "It's getting late. Uhm -thank you for showing me those," he stated before making his exit through the floo channel. 

\---

I had felt beyond ecstatic the night he invited me to join him for dinner. It had been during the winter break. Things were slow and it seemed neither of us had much to do. 

It was the first time I had his cooking. It was splendid. I made sure to tell him as much. He responded with some awkward shifting and a nod. I could tell he was pleased with himself. 

He was more quiet than usual tho. Not really hooking on to my attempts at riling him up as was our custom. 

“You seem a bit quiet tonight, is something on your mind?” I asked. 

“Uh -oh, no. I’m fine.” He looked up from where he was picking at his food. 

He didn't look fine to me. I wondered if it was related to his mission, “Ah, top secret stuff, huh…”    


He paused for a moment and then replied, “Yes...you can say that.”   
  
I continued to watch him. Hoping that he would open up, even if just a little. 

“Black?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think you’ll survive this time?”

The question sat heavy in the air. Though it was often on my mind as well. 

“No," Everyday felt like it could be the last, "Do you?”

“I -I don’t see how I could…” He was afraid. I don't want to die either, I thought. There was so much I still needed to repent for, to maybe even live for...

I reached for his hand then. His soft gaze followed my actions as I brought the hand to my lips. He was warm -and soft too. His gaze intensified, his lips parted to breathe. 

As I pulled away he leaned into me. His other hand cupping my face, he pressed a kiss against my lips in return. 

Time felt still. I wasn't sure what it meant but I wanted this. Dear God how I wanted to touch him, to taste him, and to feel him. 

We broke away only for a moment to catch our breath. 

“Severus -I’ve wanted this for ages.” I kissed him once more, shifting nearly off my seat at the table. The kiss a bit more desperate. My tongue pressed against his lips. He let me enter, to get a deeper taste. I moaned into him, my whole body felt alive. The blood rushing through me. Heat radiating from our bodies. This was just a taste and I wanted more. 

I broke away again, trailing kisses across his jaw, down to his neck. He moaned and leaned into me. 

“You’ve been driving me mad,” He growled. 

His deep voice lighting a fire within me that threatened to burn. 

I tore off my clothes and he his own. 

The flames of our desire engulfed us both, threatening to turn us to ash. 

We were in his room. He was on his back and I moved over him. 

The desire to feel alive, to be close to someone was overwhelming. 

He was all around me. Gripping me tight as I moved inside him. 

Touching one another, we became lost in this fantasy. 

For just a moment we had forgotten...

We were nothing more than spectres of the past. Tied to this world only to avenge those we had once loved. 

When he moaned my name, it felt like a cry to heaven. Have mercy on us. I wanted to beg. I shuttered instead. 

Eros had taunted us with the promise of something we were likely never to possess. 

A life after this war. 


End file.
